{"id":7256,"date":"2020-02-11T12:37:50","date_gmt":"2020-02-11T12:37:50","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/cassandravoices.com\/?p=7256"},"modified":"2020-02-11T12:37:50","modified_gmt":"2020-02-11T12:37:50","slug":"poem-written-in-old-age","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/2020\/02\/11\/poem-written-in-old-age\/","title":{"rendered":"Poem written in old age"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>Poem written in old age<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>The light that streams across the universe<br \/>\nBrings evidence of other worlds than ours<br \/>\nWhere midst the flux of fields and particles<br \/>\nEternal wisdom older than the stars<br \/>\nUnweaves her web of possibilities<br \/>\nThe patterner experiments and plays.<br \/>\nBright pearls arranged according to the laws of chance<br \/>\nOr unknown logic, now ingathering<br \/>\nDark threaded galaxies where furious force<br \/>\nSweeps stirs and scars the dust of earlier worlds<br \/>\nAnd in continuous creation builds again<br \/>\nForms that persist beyond the death of stars.<\/p>\n<p>I too shall praise the heaven\u2019s magnificence<br \/>\nHonour with awe its ever abundant power<br \/>\nThat once with measured force spread out the sky<br \/>\nTo be a bound and roof upon our world<br \/>\nAnd a protection to the fragile Earth<\/p>\n<p>I dreamed we built a home for everyone<br \/>\nThere where I danced beneath the moody sky<br \/>\nWe gathered gifts from the untamed wilderness<br \/>\nAnd put our passions together to prove our skill<br \/>\nI piled turves around the tallest tree<br \/>\nTo form a seat and meeting place for friends<br \/>\nAnd all around<br \/>\nWe planted seeds and hope in the dark ground.<\/p>\n<p>A craftsman wrought a jewel long ago<br \/>\nWelded of words and of lines laid true:<br \/>\nFrom older songs he hammered out his tale<br \/>\nOf courage and of loss, of king and earl<br \/>\nOf men and monsters, a memorial<br \/>\nAn elegy of an imagined past.<br \/>\nThis that the war geared Danes far in days long gone<br \/>\nGained fame in story, glory in war<br \/>\nHow that the Ethelings harassed their enemies<br \/>\nTribute and treasure took from tribes all around<br \/>\nSo that the gold giver strong in his growing band<br \/>\nFolk wielder, wide ruler, strong in command<br \/>\nIt pleased the peoples\u2019 king to plot a towering hall<br \/>\nGathered the workmen there from every land<br \/>\nTo build the glad mead hall wondrous in workmanship<br \/>\nFamed amongst every folk, glorious and grand<br \/>\nGlad in the glee of hall, song mead and feast<br \/>\nWelcome to give to all, stranger and guest<\/p>\n<p>He shared God\u2019s wealth with all, except the common land<br \/>\nCare for the young and old , while shall the hall still stand.<\/p>\n<p>Fast came feud, the dragon crawls along the rock<br \/>\nBrother by brother slain, who from his dark tower gazes on his hoard<br \/>\nThe works of man overthrown, and grimly the dragon guards his greed<br \/>\nNothing of worth remains, while treasure proud he broods of doom<br \/>\nWar without end, he who is now the wyrm was once a man<br \/>\nHe will devour all, and in his banks and barrows guard his pride.<br \/>\nAll of our wealth they bury deep, they who were human once are monsters now.<\/p>\n<p>Until a hero would come who had learned all the language of birds<br \/>\nWho had seen how the hazel nut falls who had found out the strength of a wolf<br \/>\nWho far from the friends of men had drunk of the spring and the well<br \/>\nAnd boasts he will reforge the shattered past.<\/p>\n<p>Because I knew two fat and greedy slugs<br \/>\nHad crept into my garden to destroy<br \/>\nAnd everywhere they\u2019d been they\u2019d left their slime<br \/>\nOn everything I did and still do love<br \/>\nSo I must wander in the wild lands<br \/>\nOf my imagination flying far<br \/>\nBeyond each seen hill. into each dark wood<br \/>\nIn endless exploration travelling<br \/>\nAnd trace each little river to its source<\/p>\n<p>There is no river running round the world to bring us back<br \/>\nTo step and step again on our own land<br \/>\nAnd see it for the first time: river run<br \/>\nRiver run, river run, always new under the sun<br \/>\nRiver run to the sea, river run, river run.<\/p>\n<p>And then my mind moves on<br \/>\nTo Homer\u2019s heroes weeping by their ships<br \/>\nWho in the pain of war<br \/>\nOr washed by slave girls<br \/>\nSitting in high seats<br \/>\nWould eat their roast meat and their mixed red wine<br \/>\nGold jugs and silver basins, gleaming oiled skin<br \/>\nAnd think themselves like gods<br \/>\nAs some blind singer skilled<br \/>\nSang of their war achievements and their crimes.<\/p>\n<p>The old man now remembering his loss<br \/>\nIn his imagination finds his home<br \/>\nTrickster and fighter once, teller of tales,<br \/>\nSacker of cities,<br \/>\nTo meet again the weaver of his dreams.<br \/>\nAn old man now imagines his return<br \/>\nThat trickster, trader, sacker of cities, king<br \/>\nTeller of tales of whom once tales were told<br \/>\nWill find his way again still with deceit<br \/>\nHis youth disguised now only by old age<br \/>\nTo meet again the weaver of his dreams.<\/p>\n<p>He will imagine what the swineherd said.<br \/>\nThat happy is the lad that had no need<br \/>\nTo be a hero.<br \/>\nOdysseus had taken all the boys<br \/>\nTo fight in wars for Agamemnon\u2019s glory<br \/>\nHe\u2019d let them kill the cattle of the sun<br \/>\nAnd brought back none.<br \/>\nAnd now the arrogant young lords<br \/>\nDevour all and never leave a scrap<br \/>\nTill everything is gone.<\/p>\n<p>They taunt and mock the poor.<br \/>\nAnd drive the needy stranger from their door.<br \/>\nAnd if the king returns he\u2019ll do such things as will be told in story<br \/>\nHe\u2019ll bring a bloody climax to their deeds<br \/>\nRenew himself<br \/>\nIn all the joy of action&#8230;.<\/p>\n<p>Then I awoke in a fair field of folk<br \/>\nAnd let the leaves of memory fall through my skull,<br \/>\nThe bare and distant trees where few birds call<br \/>\nThe ferns and dead leaves by the waterfall<br \/>\nAnd the grey lichen on the granite wall<br \/>\nWe go to hear the sermon of John Ball<br \/>\nFor Much the Miller will grind small small,<br \/>\nBecause I know that winter is delayed<br \/>\nWhile all the colours of the evening sky<br \/>\nStill gleam and fade.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><em>David Hillman was born in Launceston, Cornwall where the poet Charles Causley was then working as a teacher. One of the children of Ron Hillman, a postman. David read widely and explored the countryside on foot but restricted by his family\u2019s poverty he had never been more than fifteen miles from home until he left at the age of fifteen to get involved in politics and study. He obtained degrees in Physics Maths and in Modern History in Brighton, Oxford, and Liverpool, and has spent many years teaching in Oxford including some quite challenging environments. He considers himself an apprentice poet, now in his early seventies.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Poem written in old age The light that streams across the universe Brings evidence of other worlds than ours Where midst the flux of fields and particles Eternal wisdom older than the stars Unweaves her web of possibilities The patterner experiments and plays. Bright pearls arranged according to the laws of chance Or unknown logic, [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":166,"featured_media":7254,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14],"tags":[3033,4144,4406,6295,6780,7319,8074,9543,10233],"class_list":["post-7256","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poetry","tag-ethelings","tag-homer","tag-ingathering","tag-much-the-miller","tag-odysseus","tag-poem-written-in-old-age","tag-sacker-of-cities","tag-trickster","tag-wyrm"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7256","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/166"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7256"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7256\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7256"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7256"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/casswp.eutonom.eu\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7256"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}